One Star Dies, Another Is Born
by Spiritstrike
Summary: Movieverse AU: Elita arrives on Earth on a ship called the Brightsteel. She's on the brink of going offline and there is nothing anyone can do to save her. As she prepares to join the Well of All Sparks, she tells Optimus a shocking secret that will change his life forever.
1. Fatal Strike

Chapter 1:

Fatal Strike

**Well, due to a plot bunny that I could no longer contain and that I wanted to take a break from _Earthspark_ for a little bit, I thought it was time that I posted this up. It's been on my mind for a long time and I felt that the time had come to show you what I been working so hard on. It was a long and difficult process, but I think you'll enjoy this. I'm hoping I got everything right, especially in rergards to the characters.**

**This story takes place a month after the 2007 movie, ignoring ROTF and DOTM all together. However, there will be traces of those movies embedded into this. I'll do my best to make it good, and I hope you'll like what I've done.**

**Let us begin this new tale.**

* * *

"_God gave a present to me made of flesh and bones. My life, my soul, you made my spirit whole."_

**Madonna, **_**Little Star**_

* * *

They say that forever is a long time coming, but forever always arrives when you least expect it.

For the _Brightsteel_, crossing the ocean of stars had been a long and complicated journey. Despite how the Autobots had left their home planet merely a month ago, it had not occurred to them that their journey to a safe home would not take this long. They had expected it to take no more than a week to land and rest, but they had been forced to move on when the ship's sensors picked up the energy signature of a Decepticon warship that seemed to be tracking them down.

But no matter how far they went, the warship continued to follow them at a steady pace. The _Brightsteel_ was running out of fuel and Elita One – the commander of the ship – knew it was only a matter of time before it would come to a halt, allowing the enemy to catch up with them and destroy what was left of their hope.

Hope.

It was all the Autobots had left to cling onto, and Elita knew it would soon falter if they did not find a safe haven, but she forced herself to be strong for them, for herself... for Optimus.

Optimus had left two weeks before the Ark had been completed, along with Ironhide, Ratchet, Jazz, and Bumblebee to find the Allspark.

But on the night before they had left on their journey to find the Allspark, Optimus had proposed to her. She had been afraid at first, but something told her to accept it. Even though she knew she may never see her love again for a long time, she did what her spark told her to do. And on that very same night as they made love to one another, their sparks joined as one in high bliss and ecstasy.

Primus, she missed her beloved sparkmate so much that her arms ached to hold him. She had literally forced herself to not cry when she had watched him depart, sending him waves upon waves of her love to him. He kept on sending his own back until they could no longer sense one another.

It was then after the departure and Elita was alone in their quarters did her walls finally collapse.

Her usually strong demeanour faltered and she spent the last couple of days expressing her sorrow until there was nothing left to spill. Despite Chromia's best offers of comfort, Elita knew that nothing would make her better unless she saw Optimus again. But she had forced herself to keep on going, to keep on living for Optimus, for the Autobots, for everything she held dear and familiar.

Even though she was hurting deep inside, she could not afford to show her sorrow. Something told her that they would be reunited with their loved ones soon. How soon, she did not know. All she could do was let her Autobots know that she was here for them and that she would lead them to a safe haven.

"Elita, you're spacing out again," Chromia's gentle voice whispered in her audio receptors.

She jumped a little and shot a death glare at her best friend, but Chromia merely smirked and winked an optic at her. It was then replaced with a look of concern.

"Are you sure that you're alright, Elita?" she asked. "Is it...?" She glanced around the bridge of the starship before her optics looked upon her friend's abdominal region and then back up at her again. "Maybe you should lie down and I can take it from here for you. You have been overworking a fair bit."

Elita shook her head. "No, I'm fine," she sighed. "Optimus has just been on my processor again. Primus, Chromia, I miss him so much. Every single terracycle he comes to into my vision and then I think about what we shared on that night before he left to find the Allspark."

Chromia pulled Elita into a gentle embrace. Elita knew she felt the same way in regards to Ironhide. They were two femmes seeking to reunite with their beloved sparkmates. All they have left of them are precious memories from long ago.

"It will be ok, Elita," Chromia whispered kindly. "We'll see them again soon, I can promise you that."

The femme commander drew in a deep breath, accepting her friend's comforting words. Even though Chromia did everything in her power to make her better, nothing could keep the image of Optimus from entering her thoughts. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him and was gazing up at the stars, hoping that she would come into his waiting arms.

As Chromia let her go, she felt a smile cross her lips. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would be a complete puddle of slag if I wasn't here to pick you back up on your pedes," Chromia laughed.

Elita felt a laugh emit from her vocal processor. It had been a long time since she had laughed like this. She had been spending so much time focusing on keeping the Autobots together that she had forgotten what she was meant to be doing. She was to help these Autobots reunite with loved ones, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

She was about to resume her station when she felt a slight wave of a processor ache entering her cranium. She clutched at it slightly, rubbing the temple so that she could concentrate. She saw Chromia's look of concern, but she reassured her friend that she was fine.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the _Brightsteel_ shook violently, throwing both femmes to the ground. Chromia quickly wrapped both arms around Elita as they fell, protecting her from the hard floor. The shake had been so violent that Elita's optical and audio sensors were briefly knocked offline, but quickly rebooted themselves as shouts of alarm from the pilots caused her to come back to her senses.

Chromia kneeled beside Elita, gently shaking her. "Elita, are you alright?" she cried as another loud boom once again rattled the starship. "Is the...?"

Elita ran a quick diagnostic system check over herself. When she discovered that there was no damage to herself or her internal circuitry, she shook her head and Chromia helped her up. She sent a thank you prayer to Primus and rushed forward.

"Hound, what just happened?" she asked.

The slightly bulky mech at the front of the controls turned around on his seat, optics wide and alert. "It's the _Darkstar_, ma'am, they've found us," he answered her. He checked the control panel. "They've disabled the particle-combustion cannons."

Chromia gasped from the sidelines, covering her mouth with one servo, but Elita's facial expression was unreadable. "Get the shields up!" she ordered to a couple of mechs. They quickly obeyed, but they reported that the shields had taken a beating and were only down to 5%.

"How did they manage to find us so quickly?" Chromia questioned the older mech.

Hound looked over at the controls for a moment before his gaze returned to the femme commander. "Somehow we weren't able to detect their approach," he replied. "They might have a cloaking technology of some kind. Elita, what do we do?"

Elita switched her optics offline for a brief moment, wishing that Optimus was here and that he would know what to do. But he wasn't here. He was far away from her on another world where he was beyond communications. She would have to use every ounce of her training in order to keep all the Autobots and younglings that lived aboard this vessel alive, this very ship that had been their sanctuary for only a month.

It was up to her now.

Another blast rattled the ship, but Elita stood her ground as she straightened herself.

"Hound, prepare the FTL drives for a hyperspace jump," she ordered. "The rest of you, man the laser emitters and the pulse cannons!"

"_Elita One!"_ a mech's voice over a com-link cried.

The femme commander recognised it as Smokescreen, a young but brilliantly intelligent mech who had just become an official member of the Autobots. He was still a greenhorn, but he had the potential to be a great warrior.

"What is it, Smokescreen?" she asked.

"_We just detected a haul breach in the ceiling! From the sounds of things, this guy is really big and nasty!"_

"Frag it all to the Pit, what else could go wrong?" Elita growled. "Alright, Smokescreen, have a group of Autobots hold them off while I head to the Youth Sectors! No doubt they're after the younglings. Elita One out."

She turned to Chromia and she was met with a furious look on her friend's face.

"I know what you're thinking, Elita," the femme hissed between her dental plates, "and I forbid you to go out there. I'll take a team and ensure that the enemy doesn't take the younglings. If you die, then Optimus will never forgive me for letting you throw your life away recklessly."

Elita shook her head furiously. "No, Chromia, I'm leaving you in charge of the command centre," she told her friend. "I have to do this because the Autobots and younglings are counting on me to protect them and lead them to their salvation. Without hope, life is meaningless."

"But Elita," Chromia snarled, "what about...?"

"Chromia, are you in charge of this vessel?" Elita asked.

"N-no," Chromia said. Then determination washed over her optics. "But, as your best friend, I'm begging you: please don't throw your life away. I know you too well, Elita."

Elita laughed gently and embraced her closest friend lovingly. "I promise you that I will come back alive," she told her before letting her go and headed over to the exit. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at her dearest friend. Something told her that she may not be able to hold onto that promise, but she hoped with every fibre of her essence that she would make it to see her beloved Optimus again.

_Primus, grant me the strength that I need to do what I must and to protect every ounce of my being so that I may return to Optimus alive,_ she prayed deep within.

She knew it was reckless to go rushing off in order to protect the younglings, even though Moonracer, Hot Spot and Scattorshot were there in case the Decepticons breached the barrier that kept them safe. But what else could she do? She trusted Chromia with her life, but no one could be trusted to hold them off.

Cries of agony could be heard from her com-link, but she forced herself onwards. She had to protect the younglings at any cost, even if she had to endanger a precious life.

"_Elita One, help us!"_ a mech's voice cried until an explosion sounded and static reached her audio receptors.

She winced, but kept on going, not even daring to look back.

Turning down a corridor, she could hear several pairs of pedes approaching her. Fury welled up inside her spark and she felt its pulse quicken. Alarm soon took over her and she quickly calmed it, not wanting to run the risk of upsetting her systems.

"Smokescreen, can you hear me?" she called over the com-link. "What happened out there?"

At first there was no response, until a weak voice answered her, _"I'm sorry, ma'am, they got past us. We couldn't hold them off... they wiped them out and I'm the only one who survived the attack. They came so fast that I never got a chance to... lift my gun."_

"Don't be sorry, Smokescreen," Elita cooed motherly. "I'll send Red Alert down to your position. Until then, hold on."

"_I'll try, ma'am. Just watch yourself when you cross paths with that... ugly one. He's... I can't describe him, Elita. He's just too horrible."_

"I will. Elita One out."

It seemed like the group that had breached the _Brightsteel's_ exterior was more dangerous than she thought. She would have to tread carefully when she crossed paths with him. The thought of facing an enemy that sounded almost as dangerous as Megatron made her spark quiver with fear. She squinted her optics just as she turned another corner, only to come face to face with a group of mechs she had never even seen before.

The mech who was leading the group was fairly tall, around the same size as Optimus. He had sharp golden claws mounted on his shoulders and forearms, and a strange feline like face dotted his chest cavity, indicating he had some sort of beast form at his disposal. A huge two-handed-sword was strapped to his back that was inscribed with Cybertronian words on the blade. Red optics glowed coldly beneath a sharp looking helm.

Behind the mech were four other mechs that bore the usual jagged Cybertronian armour. They too had glowing red optics that showed their power and raw determination. Something told Elita that it was not going to be an easy fight against all five of them at once.

"Well, well," the large mech smirks, "what have we here? A lone femme has come to stop us? How brave of you." He spits to one side of the room. "I hate brave ones, especially the femmes."

The other mechs laugh at their leader's words, but she paid no heed to them, saying nothing in response.

"I'm guessing that a lovely femme such as yourself is going to try and prevent me from capturing the younglings? Pft, don't make me laugh! You femmes are all weak. You're so weak that I find the sight of you a disgusting sight in my optics."

Anger once again caused Elita's spark to race quickly. How dare they insult her femme prowess? She often dealt with mechs who would make sexist jokes, especially those who didn't know when to back off from the sight of femmes that were spoken territory.

Lips pulling back into a snarl, Elita got herself into a fighting stance.

"So, you want to fight?" the mech asked. "Very well, you shall have your way. Once I'm through with you... I think we'll have a little fun." He glanced over to his comrades. "Brimstone, Cannonball, Axer, and Sandstorm, go and find the Youth Sectors. Let nothing stand in your way, mech or femme!"

"Yes, sir, Thundertron!" all four mechs answered at once and they quickly left their leader to face their enemy.

* * *

"Aunty Moonracer," a femme youngling sniffed as she reached for the older femme she stood beside, "what's happening out there?"

Moonracer winced at the youngling's cries. All around her, younglings were being gathered around by Scattorshot and Hot Spot in order to protect them. Chromia had sent a message over the com-link system, telling everyone who could not fight to stay inside their quarters until the danger had passed while anyone who could was to take down any intruders that they crossed paths with.

She sat down on a chair and reached down for the youngling, placing her on her lap and pulling her closer to her chest. Even though the youngling wasn't her own, she could sense her fear and desire to be with her mother and father. All the other younglings were giving off a frightened aura to each other, spreading panic until there were wails all around.

"I know you're scared, little one," she cooed kindly. "But don't let fear stop you from acting. Fear makes us stronger."

The youngling nodded and buried her head into Moonracer's chest, sobbing softly. The other younglings have finally been gathered and are sitting at the pedes of the femme. She looks at each and every one of them, gently stroking the closest ones on the helm and whispering to them in their language, telling them how precious they are and that they are the symbols of hope. Sixteen little symbols of hope that would one day become great legends in the many years to come.

From the sidelines, Hot Spot and Scattorshot listen quietly without uttering a single word. They obviously couldn't believe what they were seeing with their own optics. Moonracer was no doubt the kindest femme they had ever seen. Her attitude towards the younglings was certainly remarkable. It was obviously why Elita had entrusted her to care for them like as if they were her own.

Scattorshot's head lift up as his internal alarm goes off, telling him about the danger that was drawing closer to the Youth Sectors. He looked over to Hot Spot and whispered to him, "Come with me to the doors. We've got to barricade it until help arrives."

Hot Spot nodded and they slipped away down the hallway to the main entrance of the Youth Sectors. Scattorshot stood watch as Hot Spot took out a welder from his toolkit and began to seal it shut. Sparks danced as he did his best to work quickly. If the younglings and Moonracer knew about what was about to happen, then more panic was sure to spread.

It took no more than five minutes before the door was completely welded shut.

Scattorshot patted the mech on the shoulder, congratulating him on doing a good job. Hot Spot thanked him, but then there was a loud bang that rudely interrupted their celebration.

"Frag..." Hot Spot muttered underneath his breath, taking out his plasma blaster.

The other mech sighed and he too pulled out his own weapon. Together, the two stood on either side of the door, hoping that the door would hold until a team arrived.

* * *

Elita narrowly ducked, avoiding the incoming strike from Thundertron's clawed hands. A second later and she would have had her head knocked clean off. She struck back by delivering a headbutt to his face, but he took a step back and Elita's cranium hit nothing but air. Frustration gnawed into her body, but she pushed it to the back of her processor. She couldn't afford to make a mistake. One wrong move and she was as good as finished, and with her all hope.

"You're good, I'll give you that much, femme," Thundertron smirked. "Perhaps you'll like to maybe interface with me once I'm done with you and take you aboard my warship. How does that sound to you?"

Anger once again roared from deep within her spark. The fury was so intense that she didn't remember what happened next. Everything was all a blur as energon splattered across the floor and metal crunched violently against each other. She had been so caught up in her fury that she hadn't even noticed the spike in her energy reserves until her vision had cleared.

By the time it had and she could see again, both her and Thundertron were covered in energon and had deep looking wounds. If Elita had known, she would have looked a lot worse than the mech did. Thundertron had a deep gash on the right side of his face that was bleeding a lot of energon, and his left arm was dangling uselessly against his side, indicating that she had broken the joint somewhere.

As for her... everything hurt to move, especially around the leg area. Her left leg's panelling had been removed from an open wound, exposing the delicate circuitry within that sparked painfully if she moved it too much. She could even feel energon trickling from some of the damaged circuits. It hurt a lot to move it, and she had to switch off her pain receptors in order to dull the sensation. However, she knew it was going to slow her down somewhat.

She attempted to step forward in another attempt to attack the mech, but her leg gave way and she fell to the floor, whimpering in agony.

Thundertron laughed maniacally at the sight of her pitiful state. "You've got spunk, I'll give you that much, femme," he smirked. "Once I'm through with you, you will most definitely lose that attitude."

He was upon her in seconds and swiped a clawed hand in her face, their sharpness digging into her delicate facial features and leaving their mark. He then grabbed her by the throat and lifted into the air, pulling her close until they were almost nose to nose. Elita felt the need to gag at the scent of his disgusting breath. If there was anything smellier than a Decepticon... it was a pirate's breath.

"Such beautiful features," Thundertron purred lustfully, licking his lips with his glossa as he used a claw to stroke her damaged face. "It's such a shame that I'm going to have to mess them up."

He lifted a servo and outstretched his claws, the tips glinting in the light of the corridor. "Farewell, femme," he said darkly, optics squinting evilly. "I'll miss you while you're gone."

Elita didn't bat an optic shutter as she stared defiantly into Thundertron's face. If he was going to kill her, then she would face death like any soldier would... to the very end.

Suddenly, the _Brightsteel_ shook violently and Thundertron dropped Elita in order to keep himself balanced. Elita wasn't sure what happened next, but all she felt was the sensation that she was falling and then sliding along the floor until her back hit the wall... a wall armed with sharp extensions.

One minute she wasn't feeling anything and then the next... a huge eruption of pain spread throughout her entire body.

She screamed.

As the pain died down slightly and her vision finally cleared again, she summoned the courage to glance down at where the entire pain was coming from. She was met with a horrifying sight.

A sharp piece of metal that had been caused by an explosion earlier had stabbed her directly in between her chest and lower abdomen. She sensed it had missed her spark chamber just by a mere fraction. Energon was leaking from the wound where the piece of metal had stabbed and onto the floor.

She knew that one wrong move and she was done for. Somehow the metal was keeping all her internal bio-mechanisms from being exposed to the outside world, thus protecting them from further harm.

But the pain was all she could think about as she struggled to stay online. Her automatic recharge systems screamed in protest in order to protect her further. She willed it to shut up just as Thundertron began to approach her, and through blurred tears she could only watch as he pulled out a massive cannon from out of subspace and aim it directly at her head.

"It would seem, femme, that I have won," he smirked, optics glowing with glee as his cannon charged up with particle energy.

Elita could do nothing but stare into the barrel of death.

* * *

Scattorshot checked to make sure that his blaster was primed and ready. Hot Spot looked nervously at the door that was being banged upon by the intruders outside. Both mechs were tensed up in the muscle cables, their solider instincts were high as their determination to protect the younglings and Moonracer rose to maximum levels.

There was another bang that echoed around the hallway, causing both mechs to jump a little.

"You ready for this?" Scattorshot asked his friend, glancing at him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hot Spot sighed.

Another bang shook the ceiling.

The tense was killing Scattorshot, but he knew that he had to be careful what he wished for. He hoped with all his spark that he could hold them off until backup arrived. He had called for Warpath just several minutes ago, but there was still no sign of them.

"Warpath, what's your team's ETA?" Scattorshot asked over the com-link.

"_ETA five joors, Scattorshot,"_ Warpath responded. _"We had to take a detour since the path was blocked by debris. We're back on course now and should be arriving very soon."_

"You better pick up the pace then, Warpath," Hot Spot said. "We're running out of time."

"_Doing my best, Hot Spot,"_ Warpath answered. _"Hang on tight. Warpath out."_

"That's all we can do, old friend," Scattorshot sighed, switching off his com-link and returning his attention to the door.

There hadn't been a single peep from the door since its last bang. Maybe the enemy had given up and had reported to their leader that their mission was a failure? It wouldn't surprise Scattorshot if that had been so. However, his warrior instinct told him to be prepared for anything should they change their mind.

Without warning, the door was blasted clean off its hinges and sent flying away.

Scattorshot and Hot Spot moved out of the way just in time as it slammed into the wall a distance away from them. They picked themselves back up and turned as a plasma blast shot Hot Spot in the right leg, causing him to fall to the ground. Scattorshot cried out his name as another plasma blast hit him in both his legs (one of them coming clean off) made him fall to one side and drop his weapon.

"Scattorshot, you ok?" Hot Spot called desperately.

Scattorshot sat up slightly, but his right side was bleeding terribly from where his leg had been blown off. Pain overtook him and he fell back down on the floor. "Frag it, my leg is gone!" he snarled.

Laughter from the smoke echoed around the room as four mechs stepped into it. Scattorshot recognised them as Cannonball, Sandstorm, Axer, and Brimstone. He should have known that those pirates would be the ones to come here and steal a bunch of younglings from the Autobots.

"You're a bunch of stupid fools," Cannonball smirked as he shook a dismissive digit, looking down upon the mangled warriors. "Standing too close to an explosion is bad for you."

"Go chew on an afterburner, aft-hole," Scattorshot spat.

"Now that's just rude, even for you," Brimstone chuckled, advancing forward and grabbing Scattorshot by the neck. His claws dug deeply into his tough metallic skin, though he was missing the vulnerable main energon line on purpose. "How should I dispose of you, the slow and painful way or the quick and painless way?"

"Leave him alone!" Hot Spot cried.

Axer looked over at him with cold, emotionless optics. "Don't worry, we'll deal with you after we're finished with your friend here."

Scattorshot snarled and tried to struggle in Brimstone's grip that was getting tighter and tighter with every second that passed. He didn't want to die right now, he had Moonracer and the younglings to protect! Who was going to defend them if he and Hot Spot died? By Primus, he couldn't die! Not right now!

Brimstone suddenly let off a scream of agony and released his hold on Scattorshot's throat. He and his companions whirled upon the one who dared to fire upon him and his jaw dropped in horror.

At least five Autobots (three femmes and two mechs) stood in the middle of the doorway with smoking blasters in their hands. The large, bulky mech with the cannon in the middle of his chest ran forward and swiped Brimstone away with a simple swipe of his powerful arms, knocking him away from Scattorshot.

The three femmes began blasting upon the others while the tall, thin mech with wings brought out a pair of dual energon swords in a swift manner, their blades glimmering in the plasma light. He charged ahead and slashed at Sandstorm across the chest, causing him to stumble as he howled in pain as energon coated the armour of the tall mech. He pulled a 360° turn and hit him on the back.

Sandstorm fell flat onto the ground and the group immediately began to retreat, but not before they grabbed their injured comrade. Cannonball spat a string of curses at the group and threw a silver ball at them. The ball landed at their feet and exploded into a cloud of smoke.

Scattorshot's optical sensors blurred with tears as the stinging smoke got into his sensitive optics.

By the time the cloud had evaporated, the group was long gone.

"Scattorshot, are you alright?" a familiar voice called.

His cranium soon began to spin and his vision started to darken. He couldn't see anymore. Who was he? Where was he? What the frag was going on? His head soon tilted to one side and his world went completely black.

The last thing he heard was someone calling his name, but they were nothing more than echoes across the Sonic Canyons.

* * *

Thundertron was about to pull the trigger when his com-link went off. He growled in anger and answered with a snap, "What is it Cannonball? I'm in the middle of something!"

Elita kept her optics trained on the mech that stood before her and was about to kill her. Her entire chassis was in so much pain that she lost all sensation of herself. All she could think about was the massive Particle Cannon that was being aimed directly at her head. While the sharp metal that was embedded in her midsection was preventing her from moving, it didn't mean that she was entirely helpless.

And now that Thundertron was distracted... now was her chance!

Transforming her hand into a blade from out of the blue, she lashed out at his right leg, chopping off from the ankle joint.

It took half a second for Thundertron to feel it, but when he did, his screams were absolutely horrifying. He fell to the ground, clutching the very spot where his pede had just been. Elita tried to block out the sound, but it was difficult and she wished that she could turn off her audio receptors right now.

During the commotion, Cannonball and his group returned to see their captain in pain. He snarled viciously at Elita, but seemed to be holding himself back as he rushed to Thundertron's side. Together, he and the others dragged their still screaming captain back to the _Darkstar_.

Elita felt every ounce of her strength fading away and her blade retracted into her hand. She no longer had the energy to keep on going anymore, and her optics slowly began to dim. She didn't know how much time she had left, but she knew that help was arriving.

_Optimus... I'm sorry..._

As darkness began to take over, she managed to spot Chromia heading towards her with a group of medics heading straight towards her. She lifted an exhausted arm, reaching out to her beloved friend.

"Chromia..." she gagged, vomiting up energon in the process. "I'm sorry. I could not keep my promise..."

Then a cold blackness enveloped her and she knew no more.


	2. Arrival of Thy Love

Chapter 2:

Arrival of Thy Love

**I apologise for the long delay of this fanfic, but I thought it would be wise to let the first chapter sink in and see how well it does. So far so good, but I'm hoping that this next one will do well in introducing the second character who has a key role to play in the future. Not that I cannot say what future I mean, but you'll find out eventually when the time comes.**

**For now, just kick back and enjoy this chapter, after that, expect probably another long delay as I get things underway for the next chapter of **_**Guardian Angel**_** and **_**Inherit**_**. This story isn't exactly one of those top priority stories and will be updated very slowly.**

**There's a little shout out to a certain character, see if you can pick it up.**

**Moving on now.**

* * *

Optimus Prime stirred from a long needed recharge, something that he had not experienced in a long while. His entire body felt sluggish along with his processor, but that didn't exactly bother him too much. His chronometer told him that it was merely thirty minutes past five o'clock in the morning, plenty of time for him to at least get ready before he was due to start his day of work. He slowly picked himself up off his recharge berth, rubbing his temples with a servo and letting off a yawn. He really needed to remind himself to at least wake up a little later, his biological clock had woke him up thirty minutes earlier than his actual getting up time.

Shaking his head, he headed over to a nearby table in the main room and poured himself a cube of energon. He swirled the contents thoughtfully as he wondered what sort of day it would be today. He hoped for everyone's sake that the Decepticons remained silent, but a part of him worried that their silence was a means for something bigger.

He downed half of the cube, his thoughts continuing to twist and turn in his cranium.

A sneaking suspicion wormed its way into him, forming a question: who was their new leader? He had a gut feeling he knew who it was, but he prayed to Primus that the Decepticons took their time in making their decision. The peace would only last so long.

Peace.

It had been six peaceful weeks since the battle for the Allspark at Mission City had ended. Six weeks since the United States of America had offered Optimus and his Autobots refuge beneath the salt valley known as Pilot Valley Playa in Nevada. Here, the Autobots had built an underground base to hide them from preying optics and surface scanners. They had built a holographic projector that shielded them from plain sight. Proximity sensors stretched ten miles wide and twenty miles long in, and should anything come within them, their main computer – Teletrann-One – would let them know in just point of a second.

However, Teletrann-One wasn't fully operational yet to analyse the planet they occupied, rather it would take the Autobots just a few more weeks before it would be set up to its maximum. Still, having it alert on the proximity sensors was enough to put Optimus at ease until everything else was in working order.

Outside the base, just four klicks north from the main entrance, a beacon had been built to help falling Autobots to locate them. Fortunately, it was in a special coding that only an Autobot could decipher, preventing a Decepticon expert hacker or human from decoding its coordinates and revealing the location of the base.

During the past four weeks after that, at least forty-five Autobots had arrived and had made their home inside. Everyone had been quick to celebrate the arrivals, but Optimus was never one for such times. While he allowed his men to enjoy themselves, he spent most of his time alone, searching the stars for any signs of just the _one _he was hoping to arrive.

But alas, no such luck befell upon him, and he had been forced to carry out his duties like he normally did.

Sighing, he pushed his thoughts aside and finished off the rest of his cube. He chucked it into the storage bin for later when he would wash it later, he only had at least twenty minutes left before he was due to start, but he was used to being at his office early until the official time started. Stretching his muscle cables as far as they were allowed, he departed from his quarters and made his way down the corridors for his office.

As he walked down the hallways of the base, he greeted Autobots that walked by him warmly with a smile or a simple 'good morning'. Some of them obviously had the same idea as him by starting early, while others were just getting off their night shift and heading toward their quarters for a short recharge.

Optimus half-expected the walk and the simple greetings to take twice as long, since his thoughts and sensors weren't exactly at optimal capacity, but he soon found himself at his office's door before he even knew it.

As he entered the room, he let off an inaudible groan.

Lying on his desk was a pile datapads on one side of the table, and they were definitely not in a very neat arrangement.

He headed over to the desk and picked one up to examine what was written on there. It was from Bumblebee requesting permission to take out a scouting patrol to Oregon to check things out. Obviously the young yellow mech seemed just as suspicious as Optimus regarding Decepticon activity. Optimus decided it would be best to send out more scouting patrols just to put his processor at ease. If there was anything out there that may prove a threat to both humans and Autobots, then it seemed only fair that there would be more patrols than just Bumblebee's.

He scratched in 'permission granted' before adding in about sending out other patrols as well.

He was about to call in a drone to take the datapad to Bumblebee when his com-link beeped, indicating it was Ironhide who was calling. Sighing, he answered, _"Prime here, go ahead."_

"_Apologies for the early call, Optimus,"_ the black mech's deep voice said through the com-link, _"but Teletrann-One just picked up another new arrival heading towards the beacon as I speak."_

Hope lingered at the back of Optimus' processor. _"Did Teletrann managed to identify who it was?"_ he asked. _Please_.

"_Yes, Sir,"_ Ironhide replied, _"it's Mirage."_

Disappointment replaced that flicker of hope. He shouldn't have even dared to think that it would be who he thought it was. _"Roger that, Ironhide,"_ he sighed. _"I'll meet Mirage at the designated coordinates. Prime out."_

Still clutching Bumblebee's datapad, he made his way out of his office toward the Command Centre that led to the main entrance of the base. But not before he handed the datapad to the nearest drone he came across on his journey.

Once he reached the Command Centre, he was greeted by four mechs, who were busy working on Teletrann-One: Wheeljack, Mainframe, Skids, and Lightspeed. Wheeljack had his head beneath the console of the giant computer in the wall, while Lightspeed was handing him tools that he called for. Skids and Mainframe were standing to one side, looking at a datapad that Mainframe had in his servo. Skids was pointing to something that caused Mainframe to shake his head and telling him that it wasn't really right if they were going to get the Sky Spies into space correctly.

Optimus cleared his vocal processor, causing all four mechs to look in his direction. Smiles were exchanged before Optimus asked, "How goes the work in here?"

Wheeljack pulled himself out from underneath the console and sat up, saluting with a wrench. "It's going well, Sir," he chuckled enthusiastically like an excited child with a brand new toy. He always did get excited whenever it came to talking about things he was working on. "If you didn't have me to work on this bucket of bolts, then this would have taken twice as long to get it up and running."

"_I can assure you, Wheeljack, I would be at maximum capacity with or without your help,"_ came the male robotic reply from the computer.

Optimus quirked an optic ridge.

Wheeljack shrugged at the response, placing the wrench on the floor and wiping his servos clean on a rag. "Just ignore him, Sir," he sighed. "He's been like that all morning since I started working on him."

"I'll let it slide for now," Optimus smirked. "What is your estimate of getting Teletrann fully functional?"

Wheeljack looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin with a fore-digit and thumb. "By my estimates, Sir," he replied honestly, frowning a bit, "at least a half a decacycle."

Optimus found himself unleashing a held back breath. A decacycle was three earth weeks long, but half a decacycle was merely ten and a half Earth days. That was much too long without the guidance of the computer to help keep an optic out for any signs of Decepticons or the daily news that would spark the interest of the Autobots. Still, it was better than a full decacycle.

"That's better than nothing, Wheeljack," he smiled, patting the white mech on the shoulder kindly.

Lightspeed approached them, his lips set in a straight line and his optics downcast. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking: are you heading outside by any chance?"

Optimus blinked quizzically. "I am, Lightspeed, why do you wish to know?"

Lightspeed's gaze never left the floor, his right ped fiddling with the ground in a nervous manner. "Well, um, I thought I should let you know that we finished installing the elevator to the main entrance. We, uh," his voice became more frequent and his gestures more awkward, "finished it just an hour ago before we moved onto Teletrann."

Optimus couldn't help but give the young mech a thankful nod. "I appreciate it very much," he said, giving Lightspeed a handshake, much to his astonishment. "It would save me the effort of having to climb the ladder like last time."

Skids and Mainframe laughed.

"And believe me, Sir," spoke up Mainframe, "that was quite a sight to see."

Optimus shook his head, his armour trembling with laughter. "Thank you again, both of you. Keep up the good work." He waved the group of engineers goodbye and continued on his way.

When he stepped onto the massive barely lit elevator, he pressed a button and it began to make its way up to the surface. The trip barely lasted less than seven minutes, since he had to get through at least a quarter of a kilometre of solidly built in metal to support the elevator.

Once the elevator's doors opened outwards and he reached the top, he was greeted by the faint illumination of the sun's rays. It was just rising from near the Silver Island Mountains, casting a long shadow behind him. Most of the sky was still fairly dark with traces of clouds and the barely noticeable Morning Star, but the sun was beginning to change it from black to dark pink, orange, and yellow that blended in perfectly together, creating a beautiful show for all to see.

Six o'clock, his chronometer told him.

He sighed deeply, breathing in the fresh air from the mountains. There would be time to admire the beauty later once he had dealt with Mirage's arrival. He transformed into his powerful Peterbilt form and headed toward the north where the beacon was located. It was there where all things would change for his life for the better or for the worse.

* * *

The massive fireball impacted the ground, causing it to send tremors through it and sending dust and salt scattering in his wake. Mirage's sensors became jarred that lasted more than a split second. It was a second enough for him to quickly analyse his surroundings. There appeared to be nothing as far as his proximity sensors could sense. Nothing that told him he was in any immediate danger. Obviously that was something for him to go by for the moment. He had been pursued not too long ago before he lost them in what the locals called the Asteroid Belt.

A part of him hoped for certain that they didn't follow him to the designated coordinates. Optimus would surely kill him for leading them to the base.

Once he was certain the coast was clear, he allowed himself to transform from his entry mode to his bipedal form. His processor was eventually greeted by a data stream of vehicle forms for him to choose from thanks to Ratchet. He couldn't decide what to pick, but he eventually settled on choosing a Ferrari 458 Italia and the colour red. He didn't know why he chose it, but it just simply felt like it was meant for him.

His wheels squealed furiously on the ground, kicking up the salt as he fishtailed. He pulled two three-sixties before he felt the satisfaction deep within the pit of his internal structure. Yes, this vehicle was definitely for him.

His sensors went off and he realised that they had detected the large vehicle heading straight towards him. Curiously, he faced the vehicle and felt completely intimidated by its massive size and flamed structure. He would have been completely put off if it weren't for that familiar aura he felt coming from it, and he knew instantly that it was Optimus Prime. Who else would have a vehicle with that amount of size and power behind it?

He didn't wait a moment too soon as he transformed into his robotic form and approached the large form of his commander and friend.

"Felice di vederti, Optimus," he greeted, waving a hand just as Optimus reached him and transformed as well.

The Autobot commander frowned when Mirage spoke those words, much to Mirage's confusion. Before he could ask, Optimus spoke to him in Cybertronian, **"You're speaking the incorrect language, Mirage. Switch to English, for that is what the locals mainly speak."**

"**Oops,"** Mirage groaned as he did as he was told. "Is that better?" His voice now carried a light British accent, which earned him a satisfied nod from his friend.

"Much better," he smiled as he drew closer to the smaller mech and placed a hand upon him shoulder. Then, much to Mirage's surprise, he was pulled into a warm embrace. Never had he thought that Optimus would give him a hug, but it somehow felt relieving to be able to lay optics on him again. When was the last time he had looked up to him? Too long it had felt, but it was definitely worth seeing him again after all this time. "It's good to see you again, Mirage. How did you manage to find Earth so soon?"

Mirage's doorwings stiffened slightly and he took a deep breath, knowing that he would be the one to tell him since Prowl wasn't here. "It wasn't easy," he said softly, "but after you and your team left Cybertron to find the Allspark, things got really bad for us."

Optimus' optics narrowed. "Tell me everything," he ordered calmly, his voice steel. "And I mean everything."

Mirage nodded and continued, "The Decepticons learned that you had gone and their attacks became more frequent; more brutal. They thought they could break us, but we fought them off each and every time. It was then that Prowl announced that we finish building the _Ark_."

Optimus remained silent, allowing Mirage to keep on going.

"After we finished and boarded the _Ark_, we took off for the stars as planned. We'd just left Cybertron behind us when an explosion rocked the ship and we found ourselves under attack by a nearby Decepticon warship. We tried to fight them off, but they damaged the ship so badly that we had to evacuate." His breathing became more frantic than normal, his sparkrate increasing. "I managed to escape into single pod and ejected myself into space. I don't know if anyone else got out alive, but I was rocked around and knocked unconscious. I woke up on a planet's moon, but there were pieces from my pod and the _Ark_ all around me."

_Choking... suffocating... smoke in the oxygen tanks. Can't breathe..._

A pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders and gently shook him out of his thoughts. He blinked several times, trying to clear his processor of the memories. He inclined he was fine, taking a deep breath. "Did Prowl escape?"

Mirage shook his head grimly, optics focusing on the ground. "No... I'm sorry, Optimus. I didn't see him get away."

Optimus sighed and released his hold. "Continue, Mirage."

Mirage nodded. "I eventually recovered a terracycle after the attack and set off to find any signs of other Autobots. But deep down, I knew it was hopeless. So I did the only thing I could: I set off in the same direction as you and the others, hoping to at least run into any other Autobots along the way. I met no one and it took me two quartexes to get to this part of the galaxy until I heard your message about the loss of the Allspark and our new home."

Once he had finished, he drew closer to his Prime and grabbed an arm firmly, his bright blue optics staring up into his own, fierce and determined. "Elita was on board the ship as well," he told him. "I managed to escort her to an escape pod by Prowl's orders in order to ensure that she got off safe and sound."

Mirage managed to catch a glimpse of relief on Optimus' faceplates, but it was quickly replaced by a stony resolve. "Thank you, Mirage, for telling me this," he said simply. The young mech knew that he was disappointed by this piece of news, even if there was still hope that she was out there looking for him.

He let go of his arm, smiling in an attempt to distract his thoughts. "It's still good to see you, Optimus. I've missed you."

"It's good to see you too, Mirage," Optimus responded in kind. "Come on, let's get you settled. I'm sure Bumblebee will be happy to see you again."

"Of course, Sir."

**Two Days Later**

**Autobot Base, Mirage's Quarters**

Settling in hadn't been as easy as Mirage thought it would be. He had been assigned to Bumblebee's command with Optimus' permission, along with the recent newcomers Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Hot Shot. While Mirage was given some time off to do some research on the locals of this planet, he didn't exactly find it enjoyable. He was reading a datapad given to him by Wheeljack that he had downloaded off a website called Wikipedia, although Wheeljack claimed that some of the information may not be true at all because that website could be edited by anyone.

Again, Mirage found it pointless to read some of this junk when he could just research it instantaneously through his mental connection to the World Wide Web. Unfortunately, Optimus forbade him to do it because then the message would not sink in and he would not be able to understand more about the locals. Still, Mirage knew better than to question his Prime's orders.

Just like Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Hot Shot, Mirage had been found by the Autobots after the Decepticons had destroyed the Youth Sectors and had been taken in by them. While Bumblebee got away with just about everything, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Hot Shot had been just as naughty. However, Mirage had been a well behaved youngling and never did anything he shouldn't do. He had grown up thinking that the Autobots and Optimus were like his family and he never wanted to disappoint them.

Groaning, Mirage put the datapad aside, having become fed up with reading. He would rather do a bit of training with the Twins and Hot Shot, rather than do this, but he knew better.

His thoughts were interrupted when Bumblebee, the Twins, and Hot Shot came barging through his door without his permission. Mirage watched as they caught their breath, but Bumblebee was the first one to recover.

"Where's the fire?" Mirage asked.

"Just follow us," Bumblebee insisted, leaving no room for further questioning.

Not wanting to get on the bad side of his field commander – even though he was one of his best friends – Mirage did as he was told and followed after the group as fast as he could. He found it odd that they would come all this way just to come and collect him and then tell him to follow them without getting a straight answer, but it was best to remain silent.

They ran down corridors, twisting and turning, dodging and weaving until they arrived at the elevator where – much to Mirage's surprise – Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Wheeljack were waiting for them. Mirage remained silent as they neared them with Bumblebee doing the asking. "What's the situation, Optimus?"

"Teletrann just picked up an energy signature from a starship that he identified as the _Brightsteel_ that we believe has picked up the beacon's coordinates," Optimus explained matter-of-factly. He glanced over to Wheeljack. "How long before it arrives at the location?"

"In approximately one cycle, Sir," Wheeljack responded.

"Good," Optimus nodded. "It will take us at least half a cycle to reach the beacon. Once we do, keep an extra sharp optic out for any signs of Decepticon activity. We don't want anything to jeopardize the safety of those Autobots. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" everyone answered in unison.

Mirage managed to see the proud smile from his commander and he couldn't help but feel proud too. He'd been by Optimus' side since the day he first became a warrior, moving up the ranks until where he was up to. He had served eight-hundred years alongside his sparklinghood friends. Through many trials, they had made it up to this day, and Mirage felt honoured to have been selected to help with the _Brightsteel_.

"Wheeljack."

Everyone glanced from their commander to Ironhide, a determined expression on his faceplates. "What is it, Ironhide?" Optimus questioned, tilting his head to one side in a puzzled manner.

"Who is in charge of the ship?" Ironhide asked.

Wheeljack smirked knowingly. "From what Teletrann told us," he said, "it's Chromia."

Ironhide's jaw dropped and he shifted about uneasily, nearly falling on his aft. Everyone burst into fits of laughter and Mirage couldn't help but laugh along as well. It was so good to see everyone in high spirits again. Ironhide managed to regain his composure, but everyone knew exactly what he might be thinking.

Bumblebee suddenly started bouncing on the tips of his pedes like a youngling, warbling excitedly, "Why are we standing around here? We should be going to meet the ship right now! I know celebrations will be in order when we get back."

"I agree with Bee," Mirage chuckled, Ratchet and Ironhide nodding in agreement. "Let's go already."

Optimus rumbled with deep laughter. "Very well then, we'll go now." Once everyone was on board the elevator, the button was pressed and they headed up to the surface. When they reached it, they all transformed and made their way toward their destination, excited hollers and whistles echoing from Bumblebee's team, though Mirage felt it were best to keep things quiet. It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

The small group of Autobots had reached their destination at exactly the right time Optimus calculated them to be. They had spent the last twenty minutes chatting amongst each other excitedly. While Bumblebee, the Twins, Hot Shot, Wheeljack, and Ironhide talked about who else was onboard the _Brightsteel_, Optimus and Ratchet stood together while Mirage was alone with his thoughts.

Optimus found himself once again hoping that there was one individual on the _Brightsteel_. Just the one he had been desperately hoping for since the day he had left Cybertron to search for the Allspark. It was all he had to cling onto, his spark constricting along with his thoughts. It hurt to not be able to feel the same love he had felt the day they separated. His servo subconsciously went to his chest panels where his spark rested, his digits seemed to wrap tightly around them like tendrils in the gloom as though it hurt a lot more than it looked.

"Optimus, you're doing it again."

He blinked and he found himself looking into the concerned optics of his friend. He looked down at his hand and embarrassingly removed it from his chest before it got any more awkward. "Sorry, I..."

Ratchet smiled faintly and rested a hand upon his left arm. "I know," he whispered softly. "You miss her."

Optimus' face became sullen. "My spark hurts more and more, Ratchet," he told him quietly, his voice almost breaking from the pressure of the pain. "Some part of me desperately wants her to be on that ship, yet another part of me doesn't want her to be on there at all." He clutched at his cranium, his optics closing tightly. "Ratch, what if... what if my spark is trying to tell me something? Does a spark hurt a lot if a sparkmate is seriously hurt?"

Ratchet gently removed his arm and he stared sternly at him. "Optimus, we will not know for certain whether she is on that ship or not. If she is and your spark is hurting a lot more than spark-separation-anxiety, then... Primus help us all."

"Ratchet, I–"

"Guys, I see it!"

With their thoughts interrupted, everyone glanced up toward the sky to see a massive ship coming from behind the clouds, just southeast of the Silver Island Mountains. It was quite a sight to see as well. The fires from the atmosphere licked away at its long body, burning away until it had made its way through.

Everyone released a held breath.

Relief changed to horror.

The ship was covered in burns not from the atmosphere, but from a vicious battle. Holes lingered around in its top and right side as it turned toward them. Smoke escaped from one of its engines as it continued its way, getting larger and larger until it blotted out the sun with its enormous size. It began to slow down as it drew nearer, its landing gears extending from beneath its bridge and the engines on its wide, triangle wings.

As the ship touched down, Optimus faintly reminded himself to have a team build a special hangar to house ships and shuttles for later. But that would have to wait for another time when they got everyone settled.

That is if the pain in Optimus' spark stopped bothering him so much. The pain had intensified, and his servo once again touched it but without Ratchet's notice. Something wasn't right...

The hatch opened and a stairway extended from within, hissing until it touched the salt barren ground.

Something came rushing out of the ship's interior and up to Ratchet, followed by another that tackled Ironhide to the ground, the first one's voice speaking too frantically for anyone to understand, even if it was in their native language. It was a mech with jagged Cybertronian armour. He was smaller than either Optimus or Ratchet, but it didn't stop him from grabbing the green mech's arms and still continue to babble nonsense.

"**Calm down, please!"** Ratchet ordered in Cybertronix. **"I can't help you if you don't slow down."**

"**Sorry, sorry,"** the mech whimpered, still trembling violently from whatever he had experienced.

"**Switch to English,"** Optimus encouraged gently. **"I've had to tell Mirage that when he first arrived here."**

The mech complied, taking a deep breath as he closed his optics and regained his composure. "Alright, I'm good."

"Start by your designation," Ratchet ordered, releasing his grasp on the mech.

"Red Alert: medic of the _Brightsteel_," began the mech.

"No need for you to say anymore, Red," spoke up a feminine voice, startling Red Alert. All three turned to see the second individual that had jumped upon Ironhide at the last second. She was obviously a femme with a stern expression in her optics, her left servo's digits intertwining with Ironhide's. "I'll take over from here. You go assist the medics with the wounded."

"Yes, Chromia," Red Alert nodded, bowing his head and rushing off back into the ship.

Optimus frowned. "Chromia, as much as we need to catch up, I would like to know what happened on the ship. Immediately."

Chromia nodded. "The ship got attacked by a Decepticon warship called the _Darkstar_ commanded by Thundertron. We barely managed to get away after Commander Elita One sent them packing. But..."

Optimus stiffened. Elita was here? But if she was here, then why did his spark hurt so much?

Chromia opened her mouth to say something more, but she was forced to close it when her optics rested upon Optimus, her gaze looking to the ground without making any more contact. The pain in Optimus' chest seemed to worsen.

Before he could press Chromia any further for answers, twelve medics led by Red Alert brought out three stretchers, all of them carrying three seriously injured Autobots.

Optimus' optics rested upon the first one that was hooked up to a life support generator and his optics widened in utter horror.

It was Elita One.


End file.
